


11. On My Own

by brokenes



Series: Teen Wolf Challenge (Niall Horan Album) [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Saves Stiles Stilinski, Drunk Stiles Stilinski, Future Fic, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mentions of drugging, Non-Werewolf Derek Hale, Protective Derek, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Song: On My Own (Niall Horan), Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stubborn Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenes/pseuds/brokenes
Summary: Stiles gets drugged in Derek's bar, and finally allows himself to need again.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf Challenge (Niall Horan Album) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209930
Kudos: 109





	11. On My Own

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I know it's been a long time since I've updated this series, but these past few months have been a lot, and they haven't really left me in the best headspace to create and post. How has your quarantine time been? Are you staying safe? Let me know in the comments.
> 
> As always, the gifs used aren't my own so credit to their owners.

Derek could see Stiles – if he tried hard enough – from the corner of his eyes, swaying with the lights glistening against his sweaty skin, an almost empty cup in his raised hand, a grin spread across his lips that would look absolutely absurd on anyone else, but not on him. Derek took his time wiping the side of the table closest to where he was, until he started pushing through the crowd, inching closer, asking for a refill, that Derek silently gave, with a clipped warning that he needed to slow down, to maybe cut himself off for the night. But Stiles being Stiles just shook his head, stuck his tongue out and told Derek to stop babying him, that he was fine, before he was rejoining the crowd that Derek didn't know, didn't care to get to know. All it did was take Stiles away from him. Yeah, he didn't need to know anything about where Stiles escaped to, or who he liked to do the escaping with.

Derek got busy for less than 7 minutes, breaking up a fight between two very drunk, very obnoxious guys, and when he looked back at the dance floor, Stiles wasn't there anymore, and neither was the guy he was dancing with last. He looked at the tables and the hallway leading to the bathrooms, and he wasn't there either. When Derek started asking the women walking out of the ladies bathroom, if maybe Stiles was in there, he decided that he was overreacting, that it wasn't any of his business, and that Stiles never had to report back to him. It wasn't Derek's responsibility to look out for Stiles, it wasn't his place. So, he went back to his bartending duties and willed all Stiles-related thoughts out of his mind for at least 23 minutes, and then he was back to looking at all the places he'd previously searched hoping for a different outcome, but Stiles was still nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, and slightly done with the whole thing, Derek went to take the trash out the back door, when he heard voices coming from the alley. He almost went back inside. Almost. But one of the voices sounded so much like Stiles, and he just didn't have it in him to let any more of this go.

" Stiles?" Derek approached the two shadows standing in front of a parked car, one of them attempting to shove the other into the backseat.

" Hey, is everything okay?" Derek's steps fastened, the louder that the voices got, because he was sure it was Stiles, and although he wasn't calling for help and didn't necessarily sound disturbed, Derek had this really bad gut feeling because Stiles didn't sound like himself at all. Derek had been rejected by Stiles so many times before, he just didn't think he could bear it again, not when things were so clearly going wrong, not when Stiles was so visibly in need of someone. 

" Yeah, dude, we're good." The other person spoke, collecting Stiles' swaying limbs and attempting to shove them and him into the car.

" I am asking him. Stiles? You good?"

“ Yeah, yeah, all good. He was just going to show me the interior of his car, apparently it’s a really cool maroon leather, custom-made.” Derek didn’t even have to take a proper look at the car, to see that the interior was black, nothing customized about it whatsoever.

“ Yeah, maybe you should do that some other time, Stiles. Here, let’s get you back inside.”

“ He said he was okay. Maybe you should take yourself back inside and let us be.”

“ Maybe you should take yourself and your car and get the hell out of here before I call the cops, especially since he’s the sheriff’s son and all.” The guy’s eyes widened slightly, before he recollected himself, half-doubting Derek’s threats and half-wanting to maintain the façade as if he had no bad intentions.

“ Call the cops and tell them what? That two consenting adults left the bar together and spent a little fun time in a car?”

“ Dude. Seriously. Walk away.”

“ And if I don’t?”

Derek had enough attempting to maintain his civility with this asshole, as he took the arm that he didn’t have on Stiles, and twisted until he heard bones cracking, then twisted a little more. The guy shoved Stiles, and Derek heard the sound of his body making impact with the car, then falling onto the ground, groans and whines leaving his mouth as he attempted to understand how he ended up on the floor. Derek hit his head against the guy’s, then shoved his inside his car and closed the door so aggressively, he hoped it would never open again.

“ Drive the hell away. I better not see you here again.” Derek leaned down to carry Stiles away from the car’s way, so that the driver didn’t have an excuse to crash into him. Stiles was barely awake at this point, making incomprehensible sounds that never quite made it into words. Derek texted the owner that he had to leave early for the night, then the sheriff that Stiles had to help him out with something, pocketing his phone before driving back to his own apartment. Stiles threw up in his car, twice, and Derek just really wished this night had never happened. He had to carry Stiles all the way into the bathroom, take a few layers of clothes off him because they stank of puke, before helping him into bed.

Derek was too riled up to sleep, despite the impossibly long day he’d had, so he started cleaning up the house, preparing meals for the rest of the week, showering, finishing up a book, then showering again. It was 14 hours later when Stiles started showing signs that he was trying to wake up. Derek lowered the TV, but didn’t turn his eyes away from it, something flaring up inside him that he didn’t know if he had a right to feel, or react upon.

“ Oh. My God, my head is pounding.” Stiles groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, taking a pillow and putting it over his head.

“ I don’t even want to know where I am or what happened to get me here. It is not worth me opening my eyes and making this headache any worse.”

“ You’re at my place.” Derek tried **_really_** hard to remain composed, calm and collected and unbothered. But he was none of those things. He was miles and miles away from being any of them.

“ Derek? How did I end up here?” Stiles sounded.. annoyed, like he would rather be anywhere else other than there. It hurt a little more than it had any reason to.

“ I dragged your unconscious ass here last night. You threw up in my car by the way, so you can either clean it up yourself or pay for its cleaning. You can decide on that later.”

“ Fuck, I definitely overdrank last night. This is the worst hangover I’ve ever had and we spent the night in a cell after Scott’s bachelor party.”

“ Yeah, you went overboard. You were also drugged.” Stiles shot up, had to massage his temples, looking a little green. Derek swore if he threw up in his bed, he would throw it and him out.

“ Wh – what? What do you mean drugged?”

“ That guy you were dancing with all night. I found him trying to push you into his car, and you weren’t really acting like yourself. I knew you usually handled your booze better than this, and from the smell of your puke, it wasn’t just alcohol in your system. So, I texted the sheriff that I needed you for the night, and brought you here so that he wouldn’t lose his mind worrying over you.”

“ Fuck. I was – he could have – you – you didn’t have to do that. Any of it.” Whatever was roaming inside of Derek, grew a little stronger, angrier, as he tilted his head to the side, unable to keep it all at bay.

“ And what? Let him take advantage of you? Torture you or kill you or – or worse? Could you have taken that on by yourself too?”

“ I don’t – that’s not what I’m saying. Why are you yelling at me? What did **_I_** do?”

“ Oh let’s see. You weren’t aware of your surroundings. You got pissed drunk with someone you didn’t know. You avoided me all night even after you could tell you were getting a little out of control.” Derek counted on his fingers all the things Stiles had done wrong. “ And that’s just last night, now if we go a little further back, we have you distancing yourself away from all of us, ditching us on pack nights, not showing up when called, not answering to your own damn father, mistreating everyone who gives a fuck about you, acting like you don’t know **_me_** although you spend most nights at the bar that I work in, on **_my_** fucking shifts. And then you talk about me not having to help when you were so clearly in trouble? Damn right I didn’t have to, because you gave me no reason to, Stiles. You’ve rejected me over and over, and I – I wasn’t even sure you’d cooperate. I thought you would still choose to go with him instead of me. Part of me thinks if you weren’t so damn out of it, you probably would have. And that’s – that’s just wrong. It’s not fair. Because we’ve counted on each other for so long, and suddenly, you just wanted out. You didn’t want to have anything to do with any of us, and you left us to adjust, to all the empty spaces you left, in us as a pack, and in each of us individually. It’s just – you don’t care. About any of this. Any of us. And that’s not like you. You never – you didn’t even tell us why you were doing it. No apologies, nothing, like it didn’t matter, like – like we were on the same page, but we weren’t. We never had the chance to. But I guess, I don’t know, you’re okay with all of this? So we probably should be too.” Derek deflated, like he’d run out of air, of words to say and energy to say them. He always did have trouble letting go of things he cared about so much, thought he’d never have to lose.

“ I am not.”

“ Huh?”

“ I am not.. okay with all of this. I just – it’s the right thing to do. It’s better this way. For everyone.”

“ How the hell is this better for us? And who said it’s your decision to make?”

“ Someone had to make it.”

“ What does that even **_mean_**? You’re the one who used to get all pissy with me every time I acted for any of you. You’re the one who would fight me every step of the way because we’re a pack and all voices should matter equally. You’re – “

“ I know, okay? I know that. But sometimes, if a person doesn’t take matters into their own hands, then the decision is never made, and everyone is left dealing with the consequences. Sometimes, a person needs to spare others and – “

“ Oh this is absolute bullshit. Are you kidding me? **_Spare_** us? You want to treat us like garbage and make it into some sort of sacrifice? No, Stiles, you don’t get to do that. At least if you want to take this on, then own it, and take responsibility for the shit call you made. But don’t try to sugarcoat it or turn it into something it isn’t. You were selfish and arrogant and mean and careless with our love and our trust. That’s all it is. That’s all it’s ever going to be.”

Everyone fell silent, all the wrong words hanging between them, all the right ones hidden, buried somewhere they could no longer dig up, because what if they didn’t matter too?

“ I am going back to work. Call your dad. I’ll leave you some cash to get a cab home when you’re feeling better. Take that water and juice before you do.” With that, Derek grabbed his keys and left, before Stiles could think of anything to say, or have the time to choose not to.

When Derek went back to his car, he remembered that it was never cleaned up after Stiles’ intensive puking, and kicked at the wheels like that would make it stink less. It didn’t. So he drove to the gas station to get it cleaned up, before going to work stinking worse than the car had. He got cleaned up in the bathroom as best as he could, changing into a spare shirt that he had in his trunk, and carried on with his day. The sheriff texted him in the afternoon, asking about Stiles, so Derek understood that he didn’t make it home yet. Derek chose not to text back, deciding that it wasn’t his responsibility anymore, that he couldn’t lie on Stiles’ behalf. But he made the conscious decision to take a shift and a half at work, just to be as late as possible, in case it took Stiles too long to leave his apartment. He even stopped for some groceries that he didn’t need, before finally making it back home around midnight. The bed was made, glasses washed, and Stiles was nowhere to be found. Although, the bathroom was fogged up like someone had recently showered, so he couldn’t have left long before. There was something tight in Derek’s chest, like a part of him wished he’d still be there, although he did everything he possibly could not to catch him. It made no sense at all.

Derek worked all his usual shifts, and didn’t see Stiles once. He didn’t know how to take it. He didn’t know if Stiles was choosing to cut the final hair connecting the two of them, or if he was trying to get his life together and cut back on drinking and partying. He didn’t know how to not feel a certain way about it though, namely miss him. He didn’t know how to not miss him.

Then one day, a month after the drugging, there was a knock on Derek’s door and he thought it was the takeout he ordered, but it was Stiles, looking so much like himself – the version of him that Derek had known for years, had gotten so used to it not being there, that it threw him a little – a lot – seeing Stiles look so.. familiar. Welcoming and warm and alive.

“ Stiles, what are you doing here? Is – is everything okay?”

“ Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I just – can I come in maybe? By choice this time.”

“ As long as you’re not going to throw up anywhere else because my car still sometimes smells like puke if I leave it in the sun for too long.” Stiles snorted, walking into the apartment, searching for a space that he could fit into, trying to find if there was anything missing with him not around.

“ So, I, I think I owe you an apology. And explanation.”

“ Sit down, Stiles. Do you need anything to drink? Or eat or something?”

“ No, I don’t need anything. Just – last time, you said your piece and left, and I was still fuzzy from.. you know, everything, and I didn’t get to say anything. Let me start by saying that I owe you, big time, because you got me out that night, although I was being a complete asshole before. You were right about that, it was selfish and mean, but it wasn’t for the reasons that you thought. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to ditch all of you. Remember that kidnapping? When those witches took me and put all those spells on me to get the information they needed about you and your family?” Derek nodded, clinging to every word.

“ It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten taken for pack purposes, but something changed in me after. I just – I was tired, of being used as leverage, of dragging you all with me every time and putting you in danger.”

“ But Stiles – “

“ I know. I know that we’re pack and that we’re in danger anyway because we chose this life and as long as people are coming for us, we’re always going to have to fight back. I know all of that. I just don’t want to be an added reason why you have to fight. I kept thinking, what if the next time they get something out of me that can cause real damage? What if I get someone killed because I am human and I am not immune to this shit? What if they start coming for my dad too because he’s the only human directly connected to me? What if it’s too late, and you don’t get to me on time, and I die then you all die fighting and my dad kills himself with grief? I was thrown into this vortex of all the worst possibilities that could happen, all the catastrophic losses, and every time the one thing in common was me. I did this or I was used to get to that or whatever it is. It’s on me. And I – I started saying no to pack meetings, and getting out of patrol nights, and the more I did it, the angrier I got. At myself, at all of you, at my dad. But once I started laying down all this shit between us, I – I couldn’t stop. It was one thing then it was two, and before I knew it, I was barely talking to anyone. I was lashing out at my dad every time he tried to have a conversation about it because the guilt was too much. I hated myself for what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop. I was terrified that if I stopped, all hell will break loose again, like the bad guys would get some sort of immediate notification and we’ll have to do it all over again.”

“ Oh, Stiles. This is worse than I thought.” Stiles tried to laugh, but he couldn’t really commit, laying back into the couch and resting his head.

“ I had convinced myself that I could do this, that I was better off on my own, but then the drugging happened and I – I can’t even imagine what would have happened to me if you weren’t there. I mean, I had completely distanced myself from the pack, and I still almost got taken, if it weren’t for you, so what’s the point? If shit is going to happen either way then what was I trying so hard for?”

“ Because you’re a stubborn, hypocritical asshole who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone.” 

“ Most of the time, I do.”

“ Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Derek stood to give himself something to do, went to the kitchen and got them two coffees. Stiles accepted his with a grateful smile.

“ So, what now?”

“ I’m.. not sure. Things go back to normal I guess.”

“ You mean with Stiles 2.0 who doesn’t need anyone? Because he’s a dick.” This time, Stiles did laugh, eyes squeezed tights, hands against his chest, body vibrating, laughed.

“ Yeah, you’re probably right. I think I’ll just try to ease my way back into things, test the water, see whom I haven’t completely tarnished my relationship with and try to rebuild. Starting with my dad, because he truly got the worst of me.”

“ That man is a saint, he doesn’t deserve anything that’s bad in anyone.”

“ Big fan of my dad all of a sudden, huh?”

“ Not all of a sudden, you know I’ve always cared about your dad. He’s a great man and he’d done more for me than most.”

“ You’ve always had his back too. And you know he cares about you more than he’d ever admit.”

“ Yeah, I know. Runs in the family obviously.”

“ What?”

“ What?”

“ What runs in the family?”

“ Oh you know, being emotionally constipated and struggling with expressing any form of human sensation.”

“ Now I **_know_** you’re not telling me this. Are you so in-tune with your feelings? Because I remember – “

“ Hey, I opened this conversation up first. **_And_** I approached you outside that bar. Those are two times that I initiated an interaction and expressed why I saw reason for it.”

“ One of those times doesn’t even count because I was drugged up. I guess I can give you that second time.”

“ See? I’ve already one-upped you.”

“ That’s technically not true, since I came over myself and started this conversation and was very expressive and very honest. So, if anything, we’re even.” Derek smiled, comfortable and at ease for the first time in a very long time.

“ Yeah, I guess we are.” Stiles smiled too, finishing the last of his coffee.

“ You know, I really am sorry for making it so difficult for you to be around me. It didn’t have anything to do with you. You did everything right, I just – I was scared. Of losing that, losing you, and this was the only way I could brace myself for it.”

“ No worries. We all have our moments.”

“ Oh boy, do we. Remember that time you – “

“ No, I don’t, now shut up and come help me make some dinner.”

And so he did. They had dinner together and Stiles left before the pack meeting because he needed to sort things out with them individually first. Lydia and Malia had always known he’d come back around eventually, so it was easier with them. Cora and Kira had a bet on who would initiate the unraveling of all the shit that had happened, and Cora won because she bet on Derek. Scott was the hardest one because he’d never not had Stiles in his life, at least as far back as he could remember, so for Stiles to push him so far out of his, broke something in him, in them. But the next time that Scott got hurt fighting a vampire, Stiles put his fingers inside his throat to stop him from bleeding out, and cried over him until he started waking up again. Scott found it almost impossible to continue to be mad at him after that. And then trust was regained, lives were intertwined, and Stiles started to forget how to be on his own, which turned out to be not nearly as satisfying and comforting as being part of something.


End file.
